


Closeted

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Coming Out, Implied Friends To Lovers, M/M, Trapped In A Closet, Truth or Dare, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, no beta we die like men, set after Perchance To Sleepwalk and before The Phineas and Ferb Effect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 21:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Dakota and Cavendish get stuck in a closet and play Truth orDareTruth.





	Closeted

**Author's Note:**

> _asgdhfkgkaklajf_
> 
>  
> 
> I started writing this (apparently) a year ago (made the doc on Jan 17th 2018 bb!) and had SUCH bad writer’s block that it’s taken me this long to finish it. But it’s finally done!!
> 
> This was started when I was still experimenting with what to call them in fic and I’m. too lazy to change them to Cavendish and Dakota now so we’re just gonna Suffer Thru It. They’re Vinnie and Cav/Cavendish because I’m a tired bitch!!!

“Ouch, Dakota! You’re stepping on my foot!”

“Well, it’s not like I can step anywhere else!”

A groan of annoyance came from Cavendish’s direction and Vinnie mimicked it automatically. He couldn’t see Cav’s expression in the darkness, but he was sure it was set into a deep frown.

“Oh, don’t act so _childish_.”

Vinnie made a face in Cavendish’s direction, and then slumped against the wall. “I can’t believe we lost them.”

There was a shuffling sound, and then a sharp elbow poking lightly into his arm, and Vinnie surmised that Cav had crossed his arms.

“ _I_ cannot believe that we managed to get trapped inside of a _closet_ ,” he retorted grouchily. Vinnie just shrugged, and then carefully slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was sitting on the floor. Cavendish, now above him, spluttered.

“My legs are tired, Cav, give me a break,” Vinnie complained, folding himself up as tightly as he could. “We’ve been chasing those jerks for the last twenty minutes. We at least deserve a break.”

“It’s _indecent,”_ Cavendish stated primly, his foot jutting suddenly, sharply, into Vinnie’s crotch. Vinnie made a pained, whining noise, and Cavendish put his foot back down slowly. “...that was supposed to be your leg,” he added, a brief note of apology entering his voice. Vinnie, trying to remember how to breathe as though he hadn’t just been jabbed in the junk, only shook his head and huffed.

They fell silent, then. It was the quietest things had been between them for quite a while, actually; Vinnie usually liked to fill silence with talk of inconsequential nonsense. (Part of it was the fault of his own inability to ever shut himself up, but he also knew that the silence made Balthazar nervous, even if he would never admit it aloud to him.)

Sure enough, as soon as Vinnie had managed to talk himself through the pain, Cavendish burst. “Oh, I can’t believe this! Surely, there has to be some way out of here. We’re _time travellers,_ for goodness’ sake.” The sound of the door handle jiggling startled Vinnie a little as Cav wiggled it harshly.

He let it happen for a second, and then, when Cav didn’t seem like he was going to let up, Vinnie reached up and groped until he found Cavendish’s hand on the knob. “Let it go, Cav. It’s locked.”

Cavendish pulled his hand away from both Vinnie’s touch and the door after a second’s hesitation, groaning again. “Why the devil would someone even _need_ to lock a closet?” he asked, and Vinnie shrugged.

“Precious contents, maybe?” he suggested. Cavendish huffed in annoyance.

“Well, whatever it is, there had better be someone coming to check these _contents_ before we end up having to… Oh, I don’t know, eat each other to survive.”

Vinnie tried to keep a straight face. He really, really tried.

“Eat each other to survive?” he repeated, trying to sound more incredulous and less amused. It didn’t work, which was unfortunate, because Cav began to splutter again, telling him off for being so laid-back in such a difficult situation, everything was going terribly and it was all his fault, if he just cared a little more maybe this wouldn’t have happened… Vinnie tuned it out. He’d heard it all before.

“--akota. Dakota! Are you even listening to me?” Cavendish’s foot struck out again, this time a lot more hesitantly, and nudged him in the thigh.

“Not really,” he admitted, and Cavendish sighed like a balloon losing all its air.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered.

There was silence again, until slowly, Vinnie felt Cav attempting to shuffle around uncomfortably. There was accidental contact between them several times, until Cavendish spoke again.

“Would you budge over? I’m not just going to stand here like an idiot.”

Smiling fondly, glad that he didn’t have to hide it in the darkness, Vinnie shifted over as much as he could, until there was room on the floor of the closet for Cav to join him in sitting. And he did. It was a little uncomfortable, since Vinnie was All Too Aware of any accidental touching, and since Cavendish would shift away if it happened, but it was better than standing for goodness knew how long before they managed to get out.

“Wanna play a game?” Vinnie asked eventually, boredom creeping up on him faster than he could even attempt to quell it. He expected Cav to shoot it down immediately, so a surprised-pleased smile found its way onto his face again when that didn’t happen.

“What kind of game?” The voice in the dark was suspicious, but it wasn’t angry or annoyed anymore, so Vinnie was fully prepared to take that as a win.

“Truth or Dare?”

Cavendish snorted. “We’re locked in a closet, Dakota. Neither of us are in any position to perform any sort of _dare_.”

“Fine then, Mister Spoil-Sport,” Vinnie replied, sticking his tongue out in the general direction of Cav’s voice. “How about we play Truth or Truth?”

There was a long silence, but Vinnie let it simmer, his fingers playing absently with what felt like the head of a mop beside him. Finally, Cavendish let out another short breath.

“...fine,” he agreed, and Vinnie tugged a little too hard on the mop in his excitement as a grin split over his face. He let out a whoop--

\--that promptly turned into a groan of pain as the handle of the mop cracked him on the head.

“Dakota? Are you alright?” Cavendish’s sudden urgency betrayed his concern, and Vinnie reached out blindly with one hand while rubbing at his head gingerly with the other. He managed to find a lanky arm and patted it comfortingly.

“Yeah. Just knocked over a mop or somethin’,” he replied, and he could feel Cav’s arm relax just slightly under the hand now resting on top of it.

“Ah. I see.” Cavendish didn’t push his hand away, and Vinnie didn’t make any move to tug it back, since Cav was letting him be. “Are you injured?”

Vinnie snorted a little. “Nah. Just gave me a good smack. Anyways--” He straightened up a little where he was sitting, without moving his hand from Cav’s arm. “Truth or truth, Balth?”

Cavendish was silent for a second, and Vinnie could just _feel_ him rolling his eyes. And then, “Oh, I suppose I’ll choose truth.”

“ _E-E-Excellent_.” Vinnie drew the word out like some kind of supervillain, and Cavendish huffed out what Vinnie knew was a laugh, even if he also knew Cav would never admit he found anything Vinnie ever said funny. “What’s your favourite colour?”

Surprise emanated from the man beside him, and he could feel his hand jostle slightly as Cavendish turned to look at him. “That’s it?”

“What were you “expectin’ me to ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I--” Cavendish blustered for a moment, words going incomprehensible, and then breathed out one short breath. “I thought you were supposed to ask ridiculous things in games like this.”

“But I don’t know your favourite colour,” Vinnie replied. “And I wanna know. So. I asked you.”

“...I suppose that’s fair,” Cav allowed after another few seconds of silence between them. “Pink.”

“Hm?”

“My favourite colour?” Cavendish punctuated the repetition by lifting the arm that Vinnie was still touching just a little. “It’s pink.”

“Really?” Vinnie couldn’t help the surprise that entered his tone; of all the things he’d been expecting Cavendish to say, answering honestly wasn’t high on the list. And an honest answer of _pink_? Not that it was a bad thing… No, it was actually… really cute. Shit.

Vinnie was well-aware that thinking about how cute Cav was was pretty damn low on the list of things that _he_ should be doing right now.

“Yes.” Cavendish sounded defensive, and he finally began to pull his hand away. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Vinnie burst out with, too quickly. He made a grab to keep Cavendish from wiggling away and managed to catch half of his hand, fingers wrapping around Cav’s pinky. “Of course it ain’t, Cav. I just wasn’t expecting it. You seem like more of a… I dunno, green person to me.”

“Well, I can’t exactly go parading around in a pink suit,” Cavendish stated after a moment. He’d relaxed again, and hadn’t tried to pull his hand out of Vinnie’s grip, so Vinnie stayed where he was, afraid of ruining the moment again. “People would… say things.”

“People already say things about us,” Vinnie pointed out. When Cavendish didn’t respond, Vinnie nudged him gently. “It’s your turn.”

Cavendish stayed silent, though, and for a long moment, Vinnie was afraid he’d pushed his luck again. And then…

“What’s _your_ favourite colour?”

Vinnie couldn’t help the grin that split across his face, and he looked over at Cavendish in the dark, even though he couldn’t see much other than his vague silhouette.

“You’re s’posed to ask me which I want to do,” he pointed out. Cavendish huffed, and for a second time, Vinnie just knew he was rolling his eyes.

“Fine. Truth or truth, Dakota?” he asked flatly.

“Truth.”

“ _Now_ , what’s your favourite colour?” Cavendish repeated.

“Orange. But I betchya could’a guessed that one.”

“You do rather remind me of a sunset at times, so I suppose it makes sense.”

Vinnie opened his mouth to respond, and then it abruptly snapped shut again as he registered what Cavendish had just said to him. What… What was that supposed to mean? Was it a compliment? Was he supposed to feel anything other than burning affection for Cav right then and there? (The answer to the latter was _probably_ , but he didn’t actually care enough to dwell on it.)

“I-It’s your turn,” Cavendish added quickly. Vinnie wondered if Cav’s cheeks were as pink as his own were. He really, really wished he could see in the dark.

“Right. Just thinkin’ of a, uh… good one.” Vinnie at the back of his neck with his free hand. “Truth or truth, Cav?”

“Truth, Dakota.”

“Mm, right. What’s the... worst food you’ve ever eaten?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

Vinnie huffed out a laugh. “I dunno. I’m hungry, I guess.”

“You’re always hungry,” Cavendish grumbled, and Vinnie laughed again, properly.

“Yeah, but you still have to answer.”

“Oh, fine.” Silence, again. This one wasn’t unpleasant, though, just… thoughtful. “When I was a child--”

“So, a hundred years ago?” Vinnie joked in interruption. Cavendish simply pushed his hand against Vinnie’s and continued. “ _When_ I was a child, my mother once made this… chicken dish. It was, frankly, _awful,_ but I couldn’t tell her that.”

“I bet you had seconds,” Vinnie teased, and when Cavendish didn’t say deny it right away, he started chuckling. “Oh, god, Cav, you didn’t.”

“She’s my _mother_!” Cavendish defended himself, though he sounded like he was smiling, too. “I couldn’t exactly tell her I didn’t want to eat it! For the record, though… It really was atrocious. Chicken and beans and… _tomatoes_ , all mixed together into some strange casserole.”

Vinnie shuddered for show, but he was still smiling. “That doesn’t actually sound half bad,” he pointed out, and Cavendish shook his head almost violently beside him.

“No, Dakota. You don’t understand. It was _horrendous._ They were all _touching_.”

“...Do you have a problem with your food touching?” Vinnie asked, brow furrowing. The concept seemed… incredibly foreign, to him, but Cav nodded, and again, Vinnie felt the world shift around him in this stupid, tiny, dark closet. “ _Really_?”

“Tomatoes and chicken aren’t supposed to touch each other!” Cavendish said huffily. “It’s just a fact of life.”

“Is it?” Vinnie was blinking rapidly, biting at his lip to keep from bursting back into laughter at just how worked up Cav was getting over this. “I had no idea.”

“Yes,” Cavendish replied firmly. “Yes, it is. Tomatoes and chicken shouldn’t touch.”

“They both touch in your stomach, though,” Vinnie said, trying to sound logical and not at all like he was just winding Cavendish up. He had no idea if it worked or not. “Like, once you eat them, they’re gone and they mix together?”

“Be as that may, I don’t have to _taste_ them in my stomach.”

“Unless you throw up,” Vinnie said automatically. Cavendish made a vague sound of disgust. “What? Sometimes ya throw up! It happens!”

“That doesn’t mean I want to _think_ about it.” Another sound, just like the first. “Truth or Truth?”

“...what?”

Cavendish finally -- _finally?--_ pulled his hand away from Vinnie’s, but it was only a moment before it was resting on his leg --on his _leg_ \-- and nudging gently. “The game?” he prompted, and Vinnie felt a stab of warmth go through him at the strange intimacy of the gesture.

“Right. Uh… Truth.”

“Do you regret being assigned as my partner?”

The air felt like it was sucked immediately from the tiny excuse for a room, and Vinnie whipped his head around so fast it felt like he nearly snapped his neck.

“ _What?”_

Cavendish shifted awkwardly beside him, and slid his hand carefully off Vinnie’ leg. “You heard me, Dakota.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t…” Vinnie shook his head, rubbing at his face as though that would shove away the bug-eyed look he knew was there. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“I’m… curious,” Cav said quietly. “I know that I come off as… difficult to get along with. And we both know that it’s my fault that we’re stuck cleaning _Renaissance toilets_ instead of doing anything more crucial to the human race.”

“It’s not--”

“Yes, it is,” Cavendish snapped. He immediately heaved a sigh afterwards. “For all your faults, Dakota, you _are_ a competent agent when you put your mind to it. You’ve been with the Bureau longer than I have. If you really wanted to do… anything else, you probably could.” There was a short pause, in which Vinnie floundered desperately for something to say and ultimately failed, before Cav continued. “I joined the Bureau to become a hero. I wanted to do something for the world. But I… I’m clumsy. I’m aware of it.” Suddenly, this conversation was a lot further into a topic that Vinnie didn’t want to think about at all. “If it wasn’t for my incompetence, you would be… a hero.” Cavendish shifted in the darkness, his clothes rustling softly as he positioned himself. Any and all contact between them was suddenly gone; it felt like Cavendish had withdrawn into himself physically as much as he’d done it with the conversation, too. “I just… want to know if you regret it.”

“I don’t need to be a hero.” Vinnie found his voice, finally. “Cavendish, I didn’t join the Bureau to be a hero. I mean, it might be nice to have Blockhead off our backs for a night or so, but I don’t mind workin’ the Renaissance gig. Even if I’m cleanin’ toilets, I’m cleanin’ toilets with the one person in the entire timestream that I can call my friend and actually _mean_ it.

“So, no,” Vinnie felt his voice grow a little stronger, a little more forceful. “I don’t regret bein’ assigned as your partner. If anything, it’s made this job bearable. Can you _imagine_ me and Savannah as partners?” He made a hissing noise by sucking air in through his teeth. “Bad news bears, man. I joined the Bureau back in the day because I wanted to make a difference. And I did, a little bit. And now I’m here, with you, and we’re makin’ a different difference.”

When Cavendish didn’t respond right away, Vinnie reached up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. Maybe… maybe he’d said too much.

“Truth or truth?” he asked, tacking it on after a too-long pause.

Cavendish’s voice was faint. “Truth.”

“Uhh…” Vinnie absolutely _hated_ himself in the moment. All he could think of was what he’d just put out into the air between them, the way he’d dang near just admitted something he shouldn’t’ve. There was just… something about the darkness that made it easier to _talk_. “Do you, uh… Hm. I dunno. Freebie. Tell me somethin’ you wanna tell me.”

Cavendish was silent again for a long, long moment, and Vinnie realised that his eyes had adjusted enough that he could see the outline of the other man beside him. He could _just barely_ make out his facial features, and the way Cavendish seemed to be chewing at his lower lip.

“I’ve never been forthright in the matter, though it’s never been a secret, either,” Cav finally said quietly. “But I— feel as though I should be honest with you. I… am homosexual, Dakota. It is a part of who I am, as much as any other part of me.”

The admittance, just like Cavendish’s last question, threw Vinnie for a whole ‘nother loop. He blinked once, twice, in the darkness, because of everything Cavendish could have said… Vinnie hadn’t expected him to _come out_ to him.

“Thank you for telling me,” Vinnie said, because nothing else felt quite right. He could see Cav nod stiffly.

And then, something occurred to Vinnie, and he snorted, shoving a hand up towards his mouth to stifle sudden laughter.

“What is so funny?” Cav asked immediately, sounding offended.

“No, no, Cav— It’s not you, it’s just… Well, it’s _kinda_ you, but it’s not— Man, it’s not that you’re gay, it’s just—“ Vinnie attempted to stop laughing, shaking his head and throwing out a hand towards him. He found Cavendish’s hand much easier this time and grabbed it gently, threading their fingers together on instinct.

“You just came out of the closet _in a closet.”_

For a brief moment, Vinnie was certain Cav still wasn’t going to have it. It certainly seemed that way, with the stiffness of his hand, and the clamminess of his palm. But then, in a surprising twist of events, Cavendish returned the gentle grip on his hand and _laughed_ , relaxing until Vinnie could actually feel Cavendish leaning against him.

“So I did,” Cavendish said, a little dazedly with laughter still in his voice, shaking his head. Vinnie felt him hesitate, and then Cavendish’s head fell to his shoulder, resting there softly. Vinnie could feel ecstasy coursing through his body at the sudden contact, seeping through his pores every place where Cav was touching him.

“So you did,” Vinnie agreed, only just barely managing not to choke.

There was another moment of quiet, a good kind of quiet, and then Vinnie squeezed Cavendish’s hand lightly.

“Hey, Cav—“ he began, but cut himself off abruptly when the handle of the door began to wiggle. Cavendish startled like a deer in bright light, his entire body jolting as he straightened up and tensed. Vinnie sat up, too, grabbing at the mop behind him in case he needed to improvise some kind of weapon.

The door opened, flooding them with light, and Vinnie blinked and squinted at the two figures standing just beyond the doorway.

“ _Dakota?”_ Oh no. He knew that voice. “ _Cavendish_? What the heck are you two doing here?”

“Heya, Brick. Savannah.” Vinnie waved his mop weakly at them, ignoring Savannah’s huff of disgust. “We, uh… got locked in here.”

“Well, get out,” Savannah said curtly, and Vinnie let Cavendish up first, watching through eyes that were still adjusting to the brightness as he scrambled up with all the grace of a newborn giraffe.

When Cav offered him a hand, Vinnie dropped his mop on the ground and accepted it. When Cavendish tugged him out of the closet, Vinnie let him, and when Cavendish didn’t pull his hand away after they’d successfully escaped their tiny prison, Vinnie didn’t, either. He _did_ send a questioning look Cav’s way, which was answered with a small smile and flushed cheeks that had Vinnie’s knees going weak.

Brick made a gagging sound behind them, and Vinnie rolled his eyes. “Thanks, guys!” he said simply, and he offered a two-fingered salute with his free hand, turning briefly to give it. Brick was already focused elsewhere, and Savannah flipped them the bird before turning away as well.

Halfway down the next hallway, Cavendish stopped dead, stopping Vinnie with him since their hands were still attached. When Vinnie glanced over to ask what the problem was, he found Cav’s face gone ashen, a horrified look on it.

For a good moment, Vinnie was _terrified_ that somehow, what he’d said had finally caught up to Cavendish, and Cavendish had just realised that he hated him or something. It hurt, a lot, a sharp pain somewhere in his chest that pierced deep and left him aching.

But Cavendish didn’t let go of his hand. “Dakota,” he began too slowly, too calmly, and Vinnie just stared at him. “I think the pistachios we were trying to destroy were inside of that closet.”

“What?!”

“Why else would Brick and Savannah have opened it?”

Vinnie’s eyes were wide. “You’re right. So while we were playin’ Truth or Truth—“

“—we could have been destroying the pistachios,” Cavendish finished for him grimly. They both stared at one another in horrified shock, until Cavendish began to laugh out of nowhere. It started as a huff of air, then another, then a sound that Vinnie could only describe as a _chortle,_ and then Cavendish was full-on laughing, holding onto Vinnie as he giggled helplessly.

And Vinnie joined him. They could destroy the pistachios later, once Brick and Savannah had already loaded them into their car or somethin’. Or maybe they wouldn’t, and the world would go all… plant-y again. Either way, Vinnie was okay with it. _They would figure things out_ , he thought to himself, arms wrapped tight around a still-chuckling Cav. _They always did._

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments are love! Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans.


End file.
